A Mere Memory
by SeveredMind
Summary: Gundam WingxHarry Potter Crossover.
1. The Arrival

Title: A Mere Memory  
  
Author: SeveredMind  
  
Pairing: 2+1 5+1 3x4 (more to come)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own either Harry Potter or Gundam Wing. Each belongs to their respectful owners, so please, do not sue.  
  
Summary: Time has been torn apart, worlds are left to bleed into one another, what of the lives affected by such atrocities? Finally attaining peace after the fall of Mariemaia, the former Gundam pilots find themselves once again thrust into battle, but what of a war where mobile suits do not exist amongst the battlefield, but instead, magic must be harnessed and unleashed? Warning: Yaoi  
  
Author's Note: Yes, I realize that the Gundam Wing/Harry Potter crossover has been done (many times before, in fact), and is probably a great insult to each work to do so. At first I felt that the two had absolutely nothing in common and couldn't supply a decent connection, but here I am, writing a fanfic for the two. O.O; So yeah, apart from why, all I'm concerned with now is that I get a few reviews, so what do you say? Suggestions or comments, any of all kind are welcomed, so speak your mind and we'll see what happens. Enjoy!  
  
THE ARRIVAL  
  
Deep within the dreary bowels of the foul cavern, two figures embraced by shadows moved swiftly with unease, stumbling blindly without any source of light to aid them in their haste, seeming to feel that any would draw too much attention to themselves. Ragged panting could be heard from the pair, obvious exhaustion causing both to eventually slow, and then rest as they sat on the hard floor, leaning their backs against the rough walls slick with grime. A moment was taken to catch their breaths, then the men began to murmur to one another, apprehension thick in their hushed voices.  
  
"I think they're finally gone. We should start and end this as soon as possible," said the taller one of the two, his voice gruff and forceful with determination, despite the fear and adrenaline pumping fervently through his every vein.  
  
"This is insane!" began the other, sounding very much harassed and near hysterics with panic. "The Ministry has their Aurors skulking everywhere, we can't possibly get away with this! Besides, why should we be responsible for this damned spell, if Lord Voldemort wants—"  
  
"Be silent you fool!" hissed the first man, effectively interrupting the other's words. "You should be honored that our Lord has entrusted us with such a task. Now quit your whining and let's get on with it."  
  
With the discussion ceased, they began to unload their pockets, settling various bottles filled with vibrant-colored liquids and powders upon the floor before them, as well each pulling out a wand from their dark cloaks. Taking certain powders, the taller man began to pepper the ground with the grainy mass, making intricate designs while the shorter one started mixing the liquids. Accurate amounts were carefully mixed with one another, but when done, he began pouring the contents in a large circle around the finished design the taller one had made.  
  
They were trembling, whether with excitement or lingering fear was unknown, as they settled themselves just outside the circlet. Opposite from each other, they locked gazes for a second before giving one another a brief nod, seeming to agree that it was now time to begin. Grasping their wands tightly in their hands, they knelt precariously beside the circle, and aimed their wands towards the center. Beginning to chant in synchronized fashion, they slowly averted their wands to gently make contact with the poured liquid, and in that instant the circle began to glow.  
  
From the center, the powders appeared to have taken life, suddenly rising and swirling into one another, destroying the once skillfully drawn lines. The mass was now a discolored array of mist-like clouds, twirling and spinning rapidly, though the men continued chanting without fault, expecting such actions to take place. The cloud expanded, reaching the glowing circumference while spinning in form with the shape, and instantly upon connection, the cavern was consumed with an intense, blinding light. The light poured into every crevice and bled throughout the entirety of its confines, no doubt sufficient enough in bringing attention to itself.  
  
"Shit! They're going to find us now for sure," cried the shorter man with renewed panic, breaking off the chanting.  
  
"It doesn't matter, we're almost through, keep chanting!"  
  
"But if we stay here, we'll be caught and sent to Azkaban, or worse, killed!"  
  
"No, you idiot! Come back here, it's nearly done, we must finish this!!" he screamed, but the other had already broken contact from the spell, causing the dust clouds to falter as they whirled high together in a cylindrical shape. The one to flee did not make it far when bright, glittering sparks were shot towards him, accompanied by shouts that reverberated off the cavern walls, and left was his crumpled body on the dirty floor. Cursing, the man left behind mustered all that he could as he concentrated on his objective. He will succeed, he must for his Lord and Master!  
  
However, just as he was about to resume; another shout, pain lanced through his body, and then oblivion overtook him. The Aurors moved quickly to attempt to undo whatever damage was done, but not quickly enough it seemed. The spinning whirlwind of magical powder evaporated into nothing, leaving only the opened portal where the circlet once lay to gape wide, soon spilling forcefully out five tumbling figures onto the ground. Slowly, the glaring light softened while the portal yawned closed, then vanished altogether without a trace.  
  
Bewildered, the group eyed the figures now presented before them. Confusion was quite an understatement as to how they felt that very moment. They had followed two notorious Death Eaters into a secluded cavern, expecting a demon to have been summoned once sighting the open portal, but are then left to witness five young boys arrive through the gateway. Was this some sort of sick joke?  
  
TBC... 


	2. Destination Unknown

DESTINATION UNKNOWN  
  
The year, is After Colony 197. The uprising of the Barton Foundation and the commencement of the true "Operation Meteor" were thwarted as the Eve Wars came to a close. Peace returned to Earth, as well the colonies, forming their hopes for a tranquil future in the Earth Sphere Unified Nations, where the Vice Foreign Minister Darlian poses as the most influential of all representatives in preserving this peace. However, to protect it, there are those who have undertaken the responsibility in extinguishing threats long before another war may be given birth to.  
  
Those who tend to this position with determination are the Preventers, yet none were more devoted in sustaining the peace than five of their highest, and most respected, top personnel. These being the former Gundam pilots, having fought in the One Year War of A.C. 195, the Eve Wars of A.C. 196-197, and ending both. After the final battle, all five had dispersed, scattering in search of answers, of how to live a life without war in a world where soldiers are no longer needed. Though as fate would have it, they were reunited once more for the same purpose, to protect their beloved peace.  
  
It had been a few months past the final cease-fire, so far the events proved hopeful since then, and in celebration Relena Darlian, the Vice Foreign Minister herself, had thought it fit to throw a gala in appreciation for the former pilots' fruitful efforts. Thus, the five youths, once deadly soldiers taking part in guerrilla warfare, find themselves now surrounded by lavish decorations, tables piled with sumptuous feasts, and the subtle chatter of those on par with the highly esteemed. Still dressed in their Preventers uniforms, they watched the displays of luxury with uninterested eyes.  
  
Brilliant violet hues set in a boyish heart-shaped face gazed longingly towards another, focused solely upon a Japanese youth about the same age as his watcher. The teen had a wild, tousled mane of luscious chocolate that framed an exotic face, a portrait of exquisite temptation that was nothing short of perfection. Blazing Prussian-blue eyes were rich in their dark depths, as endless as the ocean expanse for which their hue resembled. Alluring attributes, combined with a slight figure, gave an almost feminine appeal as an epitome of beauty itself.  
  
Duo heaved a sigh; years of yearning for Heero drew nothing but heartache for the braided teen, knowing it'd be better to confess his love for the young Asian, yet the American could never gain enough courage to do so. Funny, how he could easily face and bring down fleets of Oz troops, but when it came to the simple task of approaching the boy he loved, he was utterly lost. Catching the concerned eyes of soft aquamarine, he smiled to Quatre, reassuring the Winner heir that he'd be fine. The blonde Arab was the only one who knew of his feelings for the once Perfect Soldier, had even tried to give suggestions on how to confide his love to the taciturn boy, but Duo simply could not do it.  
  
Before Quatre could make his way over to Duo to console his friend, Trowa stopped the petite boy in his tracks, offering him a drink he had snatched from a passing waiter's tray. Giving an apologetic look to Duo, Quatre mouthed to him "we'll talk later," then turned back to Trowa, smiling radiantly at his lover. Running a hand through his long, chestnut bangs, he looked away from the loving couple. He was truly happy for the two, but ever since the wars had ended and they had allowed themselves to get involved, Quatre and Trowa had been joined at the hip, and such displays of warm affection only served to pain Duo further.  
  
He knew he was being unfair, but he longed for such pleasures as well. Why shouldn't he be allowed happiness, too? Didn't he deserve it? Deciding to sulk some other time, he resumed his favorite hobby of watching over Heero, though was unpleasantly surprised in seeing the object of his affections no longer alone.  
  
Wufei?!  
  
The proud Chinese youth was currently conversing quietly with Heero, standing just a tad too close to the shorter Asian for Duo's liking, and...what was that? Heero was actually smiling shyly while Wufei chuckled softly, patting a callused hand atop the former Wing pilot's shoulder. Though the actions were subtle, the image it portrayed was rather...intimate. How could Wufei do this to him, the man was supposed to be his friend! That thought jarred Duo out of his shock, and into fury; Heero was his, dammit!  
  
He was just about to make this fact crystal clear to Wufei, and to everyone else in the world; promptly forgetting previous years of uncertainty and fear of having his heart broken from rejection, he was stomping towards the pair when suddenly the entire room was engulfed in light. Panicked screams and yelling could be heard from the other guests at the sudden flash of blinding luminescence, the brightness causing Duo to stagger back with hands shielding futilely at his eyes, then worry blossomed quickly within him.  
  
"Heero?! Heero, where are you?! What the hell is happening!!" cried Duo, helplessly trying to search for the Japanese, but there came no reply.  
  
A strong force was then pulling his waist, dragging him towards some unknown direction without physical pressure, jostling him against what felt like other bodies as he was then thrust forward with the rest. Keeping his eyes tightly shut, he felt himself hurtling through an endless vacuum, while all thoughts were revolving on only one thing.  
  
God, please let Heero be all right!  
  
Pain was the next thing he managed to register, being unceremoniously dumped onto a hard, uncomfortably rocky surface, while the stench of dampened mold assaulted his nose. Keeping violet hues firmly shut, feigning unconsciousness in case this was some trap executed by new enemies, he concentrated first on just listening to what his surroundings offered; perhaps he could figure out where he was exactly and if there was any possible threat he should be ready for. The rustling of cloth could be heard from a number of figures, no doubt their clothing, giving support to truth that there were more than one, but how many exactly was unable to be determined. They were arguing among themselves, undeniable irritation tainting every word, also disbelief and indignation as their voices echoed in the hollowed space.  
  
"Bloody Hell? Why would Death Eaters be ordered to summon children?" inquired a man, his voice was deep and accented.  
  
"I don't know, but we'll have to take them back to the Ministry, along with those two," answered a woman. She sounded as though desperately trying to keep her calm while dealing with the man, who was acting like a petulant child at the moment.  
  
"Bugger all, I did not sign up to be an Auror just so I could baby-sit little kids!"  
  
"Be that as it may, it's procedure, we'll have to take them with us."  
  
Grumbling could be heard before the man bit out, "Fine."  
  
'Bloody Hell'? 'Bugger all'? Death Eaters? Aurors? What the hell is going on? Where in the world am I?  
  
With that, Duo snapped his eyes open, meeting the stunned faces of strangers who were looming over him. They were dressed in what looked like cloaks, each a different shade of color, while each were holding some sort of wooden stick that glowed at the tip. Glowing sticks? Were these supposed to be weapons? Surely not...right?  
  
TBC... 


	3. The Meeting

THE MEETING  
  
"What the—you're awake!" one shouted. It was the same man who had been complaining about their predicament earlier. He was fairly tall and bulky, skin pale without hair on the top of his head, but had a thick, bushy red beard instead as though to compensate for the bareness. He was in his late 30's to early 40's, his face aged with wrinkles as his expression was held in a constant scowl.  
  
"Brilliant deduction. Figured that all on your own, eh? And who are you callin' a kid, ya ass-wipe," was the braided boy's scathing remark.  
  
The joker's mask was now slipped over facial features, that wide grin mocking the angered man, while his chin jutted out in pure defiance. A quick glance around made him realize that, aside from these "Aurors," he was not alone. In fact, it seemed that whatever happened had involved not only himself, but the rest of the former pilots as well. Knowing that they were just fine, seeing as how they too began to drop the act (as he had thrown their cover), he turned back towards the riled man.  
  
"Why, you little punk! How dare you address me so, you should show some respect!"  
  
"I'll address you however I please. Besides," a flippant gesture was made towards their wands, "what are you gonna do? 'Bibbity-boppity-boo' me with them sticks of yours?"  
  
"Y-y-you—!!"  
  
Suddenly, a snort of laughter cut off the angrily, stuttering man. It came from a woman who stood beside the furious Auror, no doubt the very same who had been attempting to speak calmly with him previously. She was in her early 20's with oddly colored hair, a bright pink speckled with blue.  
  
"Oh, I like this one," she snickered.  
  
"Tonks, shut your mouth," bit out the enraged wizard. "Enough of this, let's just drag them back to the Ministry and let them deal with these brats."  
  
A flurry of motion occurred just then; first, the young Chinese had stood up abruptly. He had just about enough of being insulted by this condescending bastard! Anger was flashing dangerously in obsidian eyes, his actions were followed by the others who stood to back up their comrade. The Aurors, in turn, backed up a step while steadying their wands on the teenagers.  
  
"Exactly who are you referring to as brats, you disgraceful waste of flesh," retorted Wufei, his sloe eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at the man, fists clenched painfully tight. Heero then laid a placating hand upon the taller Asian's shoulder, whispering something to him before Wufei finally relented, calming slightly. At this, Duo bit his bottom lip hard, his mask faltering before disappearing, and looked away from the scene with hurt.  
  
"Please, I'm sure there's no need for hostility here," implored Quatre, his manner cool and collected. Ever the voice of reason.  
  
"I agree completely. So come off it, Red," offered Tonks, giving a wink to the blonde Arab. A smile of thanks was returned by the boy.  
  
The man, now known as Red, looked as though he was about to object, but after taking a deep, calming breath, he finally submitted. "Okay, then. You five, come with us, we need to get this sorted out." This brought Duo's attention back with full force.  
  
"Wait a minute, no way are we just going to—"  
  
"Duo, it's all right. They won't do any harm to us."  
  
"Well, if you say so Q-man."  
  
"That's right, everybody just follow us, and we'll get to the bottom of this," said Tonks, cheerfully. So off they went.  
  
~*~A month later~*~  
  
Severus Snape was absolutely livid, to say the least. Not only was the school term about to start in the nearing September month, where once more would he be forced to endure his students' presence, but Albus had "requested" him and the rest of the school's faculty to attend earlier than normally scheduled. Seething with anger, he sat stiffly in his chair in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry staffroom, accompanied by his colleagues, all of whom (including himself) were asked to join in this particular meeting. The doors swung open, effectively hushing the chatter that buzzed over the teachers, and in came the school's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.  
  
A wizened old man the Headmaster was, weary face donned in wrinkles and half-moon glasses, while a tremendously long beard of snowy white fell over his front, his aged body clothed in a flourish of purple robes. Making his way to the table where the others were seated around, he carefully seated himself before the rest, sky-blue eyes twinkling softly as he greeted them. Losing patience fast, it was unsurprisingly Snape who broke the silence.  
  
"What's the meaning of this Albus? I don't find it amusing that I was coerced to waste the rest of my well-earned vacation back at this school, especially when I know I don't have to."  
  
"Severus, please. If I may?" A curt nod. "Now, I am sure many of you are wondering as to why I have called you here. To put it simply, not too long ago some new students had arrived, and require a fair share of tutoring before the new term begins. So, it is a favor that I ask of all of you to teach these fine young men, who will be starting their seventh year, as they require guidance with lessons concerning from the beginning of first year to sixth year material."  
  
Totally and utterly unbelievable! "What?! Albus, what are you playing at? You can't possibly be serious; to teach six years worth of vital curriculum within only a few weeks before term begins is impossible. Who are these insolent children, anyway? To want to begin their seventh year without having learned anything at all prior to that, it's preposterous!"  
  
"I am aware of all this, Severus. However, I find that you'll be pleasantly surprised with these students. They are very special, indeed, and would have no problems in learning all the material required. I have faith in their abilities, as should you."  
  
A derisive snort was rudely given by the Potions Master. "I find it highly unlikely that they'd succeed. But, I'll agree to this ludicrous favor, it'd be satisfying to see you proven wrong for once."  
  
Gracing those haggard features was a mysteriously saddened smile as the old Headmaster lightly shook his head. "Without a doubt these boys will succeed." Turning his attention to a stern looking witch, he kindly said, "Minerva, if you would," he gestured towards the door, "they're waiting outside."  
  
The woman, known as Professor McGonagall (head of Gryffindor house and teacher of Transfiguration), complied obediently as she set to usher in their new pupils, but not before throwing a disapproving look towards the Potions Master for his outburst, even if she did grudgingly agree with him. Twisting the designed handle, she pulled back the door to allow entry, and in came five teenage boys, all dressed in plain black school robes.  
  
"My friends," began the Headmaster, "I'd like you to meet Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Winner, and Wufei Chang. Boys, these will be your tutors, feel free to become more acquainted with one another."  
  
Severus noted how the braided youth and the blonde greeted them with a friendly smile. The young Chinese merely had his arms crossed, face shadowed by a frown, while the tallest of the five just quietly stood there, green eyes glancing every now and then over the faculty from under a long fringe of brown bangs. Lastly, his eyes caught the chilling gaze of dark Prussian-blue. An involuntary shiver ran down Severus' spine when those lifeless hues bored into his own, holding a deadly gleam in their depths, appearing ancient upon a face that was no older than 16 or 17...who was this boy?  
  
TBC... 


	4. Lessons Learned

LESSONS LEARNED  
  
The bubbling gurgles of brewing potions filled the dank room with their cacophonous songs, reverberating off the dungeon walls as the group worked silently, their progress diligently being watched over by the head of Slytherin. Snape was currently pacing around the room, his robes billowing as he swept past the tables, carefully supervising the boys' work. Settling back in his chair he rested his elbows on his desk, fingers interlaced, thoughts beginning to brood over the events that had passed, along with his newly acquired knowledge.  
  
~*~After the urgent meeting was adjourned, with the new seventh years' tutoring schedules established, Severus had managed to corner Dumbledore in his office, his demeanor slightly uncomfortable as he confronted the wizened figure.  
  
"Albus, I want to know who these boys are. As a part of the Order, I think it'd be best that I was kept on top of such information."  
  
"Of course, Severus," agreed the Headmaster. "Won't you have a seat, first? Perhaps some tea, too? Maybe a few lemon drops, I assure you, they're quite delicious."  
  
"No, thank you," he gritted out, but took the proffered seat.  
  
From the folds of his robes, Dumbledore took out his wand, then with a leisure twirl, a teapot and cup instantly appeared on the table. Pouring himself a cup of the scalding liquid, he blew over the golden surface before taking a tentative sip, then settled the cup back on it's saucer with a light 'chink.' The Potions Master cleared his throat irritably, his dark eyes glaring at the elder, as if to say "get on with it, old man."  
  
"I'm sure you are aware of the fact that about two years ago Voldemort had begun to seek answers, and possible weaknesses, he could exploit by attempting to attain the lost prophecy concerning himself, and young Mr. Potter." The Slytherin man scowled at the mention of Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived and constant thorn in his side, but otherwise nodded his assent for the other to continue. "However, since the prophecy was destroyed, he had been searching for other means of gaining the upper-hand. It seems that Voldemort had attained knowledge of a rather dangerous spell that has been long forgotten, one in which would actually tamper with the entirety of nature's chronological order.  
  
"His goal was to pass far enough through time, into the future when the war has ended, and the victor decided. With the information he would have acquired, he would then return to the present, and thus manipulate the events pertaining to the course of time in his favor. Two Death Eaters who were contained by the Ministry the previous day, had confessed these plans, after having been made to ingest Veritaserum. Those young men, however, came as an unexpected surprise.  
  
"When the Aurors had moved in to disable whatever spell they were conducting, it was too late, the spell was too far advanced in its stages to be reversed, but it was apparent that something completely wrong had occurred. In conclusion, what was produced from such a folly were those five."  
  
"But Albus, I don't see how they could possibly be connected to any of this."  
  
"Ah, though there is no concrete evidence to support it, I have a theory as to how this came to pass. You see, when the spell was cast the magical link it had thrust through the time continuum had to seek out a sufficient magical conduit; a focus, something stable to establish as a foundation for its base, so that the time travel could be made possible. But when the spell was disturbed, it weakened and had been shot off course, lost within the endless stream of varying continuums meshed together. It latched onto the first, balanced source it could find, needing to stabilize itself and so managed to interfere with their particular era.  
  
"It would appear that coincidence played in as a factor as well, for it was their combined presence at that crucial moment, that managed to be enough to be linked with the spell, but their own magical signatures were too weak to sustain the link's attendance in their time, subsequently an opposite reaction took place. They were instead, pulled into our time. Their unanticipated arrival had caused much alarm in Fudge, and so I was summoned at once to offer my assistance. When I had met these young men, it was strange really...they did not seem to want to acknowledge the existence of magic, nor wield what power they, themselves, possessed."  
  
"You mean, they're squibs? But that wouldn't be right; why would you bother having us tutor the wretched pests if they were, and with six years of education, no doubt? Also, they're already at the age where their seventh year is about to commence, yet without any previous teachings, they're on the same level as newly admitted first years! Have they never attended Hogwarts, or any other wizarding schools? "  
  
"They are not squibs, Severus. Though it appears that their abilities have been lying dormant within themselves for quite sometime, they are in fact quite powerful, if taught properly. As for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," a sorrowful sigh, then, "it seems that in their time, it no longer exists. A mere memory..."~*~  
  
The head of Slytherin shuddered at his recollection of those haunting words. As much as the surly man loathed to be here, surrounded by incompetent peons for nine, long and agonizing months of every year, he just couldn't imagine a world without Hogwarts. This place was like a home for the Potions Master, and he knew that if anything were to cause its non- existence, he would surely be broken over his loss. Unexpectedly, Duo's outburst pulled Severus out of his reverie.  
  
"Ugh! I'm never gonna get this," exclaimed the braided boy, looking spitefully at the burping concoction in front of him, before turning pleading eyes towards the impassive Japanese beside him. "Oi, Heero, you wouldn't mind givin' me hand would ya? Pleeease?"  
  
"Hn. Baka, it's simple chemistry, there's nothing difficult about it," he replied flatly, but sidled towards Duo anyway.  
  
"Aw, I knew I could count on ya," he said cheerily, throwing an arm around the shorter boy's shoulders in a nonchalant fashion. Duo's heart began to soar when he noticed Heero had not shrugged off his arm like he usually did. Though he had yet to confess his feelings for Heero, these precious moments only helped in strengthening his courage to do so. Eventually.  
  
"Honestly, Maxwell, how you've managed this far is beyond me," chided Wufei. At that, Quatre snickered softly while a faint smile formed over Trowa's lips. Here came another bout of the pair's friendly banter. Starting at: 5...4...3...2...1.....  
  
"Yeah, well, what's so wrong about asking for a little help now and then?"  
  
"The fact that you actually need any, of course; it's a sign of weakness."  
  
"Oh c'mon 'Fei, you're not still on with that whole philosophical junk, are ya?"  
  
"'Philisophical junk?!' I'll have you know, Maxwell, that—"  
  
"If you two are quite through with your petty bickering, I suggest you continue your work. Quietly. Term is to begin tomorrow, and I refuse to have the labor I've spent over teaching you miserable five, for these last few weeks, come as a complete waste," snarled Professor Snape. He was glowering at them from behind his desk, stature looming over the stained wood when he had risen to address them.  
  
Undaunted, Wufei crossed his arms over his chest in a silent challenge, while Duo simply faced the surly man with a malicious grin that would put the Potions Master's to shame, "So what are ya gonna do about it, Snape? Give us a detention? Ooh, how I tremble with fear," the remark was finished by an overly exaggerated yawn of boredom.  
  
"I'll not tolerate such cheek from you, Mr. Maxwell," warned the seething wizard.  
  
"Why not? You've been doing so for the last three and a half weeks, what's a little longer?" retorted Duo, the grin instantly shifting to a pleasantly smug smile.  
  
Severus Snape growled threateningly under his breath, but fell silent otherwise. Why did he even bother? True, for the last three and a half weeks, such antics were amazingly tolerated by the bitter professor, but only because nothing he ever said or did seemed to intimidate these brats. Every attempt made to ensure his authority over the boys was well taken into account had failed. It was truly frustrating! Not to mention infuriating, all the more!  
  
He had to admit, however, that these youths were remarkably bright. Even frighteningly so; breaching into genius. Their progress was swift and effortless, the results perfection, all without a flaw. They would make that bloody Gryffindor girl, Hermione Granger, look like a mediocre amateur.  
  
The Potions Master rubbed futilely at his temples, trying to assuage the headache beginning to throb inside his head. Dealing with that infernal Maxwell child was always taxing on his nerves, but he had to remember, regardless of age...he was by far a child. They all were. In fact, these were hardened soldiers, trained for brutal combat in a world once plagued by war.  
  
It was tragic really, how these young men had finally accomplished peace in their time, but have now been brought into another, grueling war, one that didn't even concern them. Severus spent long hours during those passing weeks, mulling over and never understanding why these youths had wanted to help in their cause; actually, it was Dumbledore who never explained this fact to him, claiming that it was their right whether to let others pry about their choice. Severus had the sneaking suspicion that the Headmaster most likely "persuaded" them to join, after all, when it came to Dumbledore, a favor was nothing short of a kindly spoken order. Also, he had a feeling that there was far more to it than the old man had let on...much, much more.  
  
Watching as how Maxwell and Chang had totally disregarded his order by continuing in their argument, he sighed inwardly at the thought of what tomorrow would bring. The thought made the man cringe. How could be possibly forget, that blasted Potter and his worthless friends would return, along with the rest of Hogwarts' menagerie of addled idiots. Tomorrow could only come too soon.  
  
TBC... 


	5. Parting Ways

PARTING WAYS  
  
Harry's seventh year had finally begun, now back at Hogwarts, he noticed how the Great Hall was filled with a more subdued raucous; students were seated at their respective tables according to their own House, but an air of tension replaced the usual excitement that came at the start of term feast. The most precarious were those of the Slytherin House, where Draco Malfoy was sitting a bit sullenly amongst his peers, with dull gray eyes cast downward in a pensive look. The past year proved bitter as ever for the Slytherins, their numbers dwindling subtly as students disappeared from their number, all rumored to have already joined Voldemort in his ranks. Across the room sat the Gryffindors, their murmuring chatter humming along with the throng of seated students, while silence came over the shy Hufflepuffs, and quiet whispers floated over the analytical Ravenclaws.  
  
The Boy Who Lived witnessed as the despondency around him grew further and more intense along the passing months. Deaths and attacks were coming more frequent in the wizarding world and the muggle world, all thanks to the strengthening presence of the Dark Lord. The Death Eater legions were said to have been steadily weakening, however, their allies were said to have been thriving. Dementors were damning everyone in their paths, stealing the souls of many who fall victim before them; the giants were lumbering across the country, destroying everything they could bash and thrash to their hearts' content.  
  
The Ministry of Magic was holding surprisingly well against the odds, along with the Order of the Phoenix whose efforts were far more significant, yet it was certain that if nothing were to intervene, it would be likely that either side would soon buckle under the pressures. It was just a matter of who would falter first. Once a moment of weakness is open on one side, Hell would break loose and ravage the lands like ravenous fires, consuming all until nothing is left. Not even the sweeping ashes that come with such destruction would be left.  
  
A troubled sigh escaped from Harry as he brooded over the situation laid out in front of him. He was nothing but a child of 17 years; untamed hair of dark ebony, pale fair skin, jaded eyes of a deep emerald hue, and petite height that seemed to be swallowed up by the draping robes. An aura that resonated pure, untainted power could be sensed among his person, so strong and sure. But even with the fate of the world to crush onto his slight shoulders, he was still a child; burdened by massive losses and the guilt every survivor bears, such was linked with the infamous lightning- shaped scar carved into his forehead.  
  
Albus Dumbledore took that moment to stand, and after motioning his Deputy Headmistress to enter with the Sorting Hat and two lists instead of one, he started to address his students. Harry turned towards the staff table with his full attention, feelings of utter hopelessness set aside, he noticed how genuinely displeased the Potions Master appeared. Well...more so than usual. The man was sitting hunched over, arms crossed like a stubborn child, unyielding, and a sour expression to currently take place of his usual scowl. Something was truly bothering the greasy-haired git, and for once Harry felt he knew that he himself was not the cause. Curious.  
  
"Welcome to another year here at Hogwarts. I am glad that you have all been able to return safely from the summer break, but before we begin the Sorting ceremony, and ultimately the deliciously prepared feast, I would like everyone to welcome a few new seventh years." A sudden burst of buzzing conversations began, but the Headmaster patiently gestured for the room to fall silent once more. "Now, these are indeed transfer students, but I want everyone to treat them with the same respect as you do each other. They will be sorted amongst our four prestigious Houses, then followed by the first years." With that said, entering the Great Hall were five young, teenage boys.  
  
"Transfer students?" inquired Ron, a red-haired, tall, and freckle-faced lad.  
  
"It's nothing strange, Ron," answered a bushy brown-haired young girl, her name was Hermione Granger, and all around the perfect student. "It's been done before, though they don't look like anyone from Durmstrang or Beauxbaton, perhaps they're from the lesser, not as well-known wizarding schools."  
  
Professor McGonagall placed the stool and hat in its usual place, between the staff table and the House tables near the front of the room, then unrolled a short piece of parchment where the list of names were scribbled on. As for the five young men, they were lined up along the front of the staff table, each taking to various stances. Harry saw how two of the newcomers were smiling happily, one a short blonde, and the other an excitable braided boy. In the center stood a rigid character, hands were folded behind his back while feet were a bit apart, an impassive stare sweeping across the room with emotionless dark blue eyes, accommodated with a wild tangle of lush chocolate. An odd combination for what appeared to be Japanese. Next stood a very tall, slim looking youth with quite the unique hairstyle; long brown bangs that hid half of his face, only one green eye stood out from an equally emotionless mask. Lastly was a stern looking Chinese boy, smooth bronze skin with mysterious obsidian eyes, and a painfully tight ponytail could be seen. Each and every one of them were wearing the casual black robes, not yet deciphered depending on House.  
  
"Barton, Trowa," came the first name, and stepping forward was the tallest one of the group, the very same that had the long, jagged bangs. Sitting onto the stool, he gently placed the pointed Sorting Hat atop his head, and after a moment's time, the torn rip of the magical material shouted its decision.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!" A small cheer and clapping followed. Trowa then took off the hat, replaced it on the stool, and silently made his way to join his fellow housemates. He was welcomed with cheery enthusiasm, but remained quietly withdrawn to himself. The room awaited for the next boy to be sorted; the entire situation was scrutinized with overpowering curiosity.  
  
"Chang, Wufei," next came the stern Chinese. Doing the same as Trowa, he had only barely touched his head with the hat when it shouted its decision.  
  
"RAVENCLAW!" Wufei went to the Ravenclaw table after putting back the hat, only nodding curtly to the rest of his new housemates.  
  
"Maxwell, Duo," and up came the bouncy braided boy. Grinning wide, he sat onto the stool with the hat shoved onto his head, and waited for its answer.  
  
"SLYTHERIN!" An instant hush fell over the room, while Snape first struggled to withhold himself from gaping at the situation, then groaned inwardly in his misery. No more! He couldn't take anymore of that insufferable twit!! Wretched hat, there must have been a mistake! But the Sorting Hat never made a mistake.  
  
When Duo was making his way over to the Slytherin table, he noticed how everyone had looked disbelieving to one another; all thoughts were the same, no way could this good-natured guy be Slytherin material. And yet, here he was, clearly a Slytherin.  
  
"Winner, Quatre," called McGonagall. Her voice snapped everyone out of their confusion and focused on the task at hand, watching as how the blonde approached the hat.  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" cried the Sorting Hat. The slightest flicker of sadness went across aquamarine eyes. A disappointed sigh came from Quatre at being separated from Trowa, but nonetheless this was how it was supposed to be, and so he left the stool with the hat once more upon it. A brief wave was sent to Trowa, and an answering smile, albeit sad, was returned.  
  
"Yuy, Heero," was the last name called, and coming forth was the Japanese. Belying his rigid stance, he moved with a sense of stealth and danger, graceful in fluid movements that caused his robes to billow languidly as he passed, much like Snape though more ominous in its manner. Following the same procedure, he placed the hat on his head while taking his seat, and all the while among the Slytherin tables Duo sat with fingers crossed, hoping and wishing with all his might. Seconds passed, then minutes. A full 15 minutes slowly crawled by with bated breath until finally the ripped seam of the Sorting Hat opened, and...  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Duo shouted abruptly with a "yes!!" and awaited for the object of his affections to make his way to him, clearing a seat for the impassive boy, he had a huge grin spread over his heart-shaped face. Taking off the Sorting Hat, Heero approached the Slytherin table while most students avoided looking at him directly, but distinctly he felt a pair of eyes lingering on him. Glancing to the source, cold sapphires met with wondering emerald.  
  
So this is the Boy Who Lived.  
  
TBC... 


	6. Alliances Made

ALLIANCES MADE  
  
After the young men were seated, the first years were then sorted into each house, and soon began the start of term feast. From mumbled conversations, the volume in the Great Hall slowly escalated, spirits were gradually lifted with the dawning of a new year, and everyone was determined to make the best of it. Even the Slytherins were starting to break from their melancholy air.  
  
Duo was currently charming the girls at the Slytherin table, while Heero resigned himself to eating quietly, his demeanor closed off from the curious others. Although, close by was Draco Malfoy's critical gaze focused upon the new housemates. A look of pure condescension was cast onto Duo, the blonde heir obviously unimpressed by his endless chatter and acting like a pure idiot, but Heero was just as how a true Slytherin should be. Distinguished, reserved, and a no-nonsense attitude. But Duo was undoubtedly one of the lesser for his obvious lack in refined manners. No one of wealth would demean themselves by playing a fool, even if he had the majority of the Slytherins' rapt attention.  
  
Inwardly, Draco was somewhat grateful that the attention was taken off of him. Ever since his parents had been damned to Azkaban, the Malfoy name had forever been tarnished, hostilities from the other houses were directed at him and disappointment from his own came instantly. He was the laughing stock among the Slytherins, along with a few others who's relations were also caught during that fateful battle the summer before his sixth year could be initiated. Draco was both devastated and enraged when news of Lucius and Narcissa's capture was pronounced in the Daily Prophet, for it was expected of him, but as his sixth year at Hogwarts passed he came to realize that he was glad it happened, and more importantly, he was free.  
  
There was no denying that he was spoiled rotten by his parents, but nevertheless he was their obedient puppet, not truly their son, just another thing for them to control and exact power over. That year allowed Draco a great amount of self-reflection. Reassessing himself, he appreciated his newfound freedom, no longer shackled to the obligations his parents weighed him down with. May their soon-to-be soulless husks be forever a monument to Draco's abolished servitude. Perhaps this view is a tad heartless, but Draco wasn't a Slytherin for nothing.  
  
Well, grateful or not, being a Malfoy demanded that everyone be focused on him (even if the name lost a bit of its prestigious edge), and currently Duo was obstructing this unwritten rule. For his lack of regard of said rule, it is only right that he'd be loathed for having done so. Really, it was the principle of the matter.  
  
Rising from his seat, he sauntered over to where Heero and Duo sat, flanked as always by Crabbe and Goyle. Slipping on that mask of evident egoism and speaking with hinted conceit, he addressed the two, their eyes now locked onto the stranger presented to them.  
  
"I'm Draco Malfoy, and that's Crabbe and Goyle," he said, gesturing to each of the thugs at their respectful names; the trollish teens grunted in their own form of greeting. "Welcome to Slytherin. I believe you'll find it in your best interest to make the acquaintances of those who are obviously better than others. I, myself, can help you greatly in the matter," he finished while offering his hand. At this, the others began to snicker and make a few remarks, but once Draco shot them a disdainful look they fell silent. He may be a laughing stock but there was yet for anyone to outwardly show their disrespect to the young Malfoy.  
  
Heero simply looked at the proffered hand, then back at Malfoy, arching a brow in silent inquiry. The boy's snide attitude was nothing new to Heero, he was accustomed to such people from his undercover work at the massive private schools during the war in their own time. The arrogance the overindulged children expressed was nothing short of irritating, but he paid them no mind having a mission to be completed, and easily ignored their presence as they usually did his. Well, the wiser ones at least.  
  
Draco frowned, indignation beginning to rise from being treated with such lack of interest. He was just about to resign the offer and give the Japanese a piece of his mind, till the Prussian-eyed youth gripped his hand in a strong hold, giving it a firm shake before releasing.  
  
"Heero Yuy," he replied. Heero may not have liked the boy, but would have to establish some semblance of a normal life while in this world, and acting like he belonged was definitely important. After all, it had already been a month and it didn't seem like they would return anytime soon. With such a precarious situation, one had to be ready for every scenario possible, even if it meant living in a world not of his own. When the former pilots were taken to the Ministry of Magic, it was then they met Albus Dumbledore and the situation was explained to them, as well were they informed of the many possibilities concerning their problem.  
  
Heero recalled the conversation they had with the aged wizard, after describing the world in which they lived in hopes of somehow returning, they were informed of the war brewing between Voldemort and the rest of the wizarding populace. It was that precise moment when the Perfect Soldier once more took its place before the world. If there was a risk that human lives would be lost, then Heero would do all that he possibly could to prevent anymore suffering. Everyone had looked at him with utter shock when he proclaimed his want to help, except Duo; Duo was furious with him for some reason he could not fathom.  
  
~*~ "So young and yet so old for your ages," Dumbledore mused. "To live in a world so technologically efficient, but where children are made to fight in a horrendous war, battle after grueling battle," he sighed. A most aggrieved expression now ghosted over his wrinkled features when snowy brows furrowed in thought. "By what you have told me, it is unlikely that any are aware of the wizarding world, much less remember it. But, if it is not pulled under the rule of Voldemort, then what resulted in this war today still stands as a mystery."  
  
"It can only be assumed that the entirety of this world was completely destroyed by whatever events occurred in-between this time and ours," stated Heero, his words blunt and voice without inflection.  
  
"Yes...sadly, this is true and also a prominent possibility."  
  
"And according to what we've heard and can assess of the situation, both your chances and Voldemort's are narrow. If nothing is to be done quickly, both sides will crumble. Lives will be lost."  
  
"Too many, I'm afraid."  
  
"Then I will help you in your cause."  
  
"What?!" Instant bewilderment had befallen on the other pilots and Dumbledore, too. Shock was written clearly on the man's face before he shook his head fiercely.  
  
"My intentions of relaying these current events to you was not to recruit but merely to inform. If you are to be confined within this time then you all would have to cope and adjust, nothing more."  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" interjected Duo, anger apparent within those burning violets. "Heero, what happens here is none of our concern, none of it is our responsibility! It's not your job to keep saving the world, you know!" shouted the American before his face softened, the remnants of fierce vehemence dissipating.  
  
Heero was a bit taken aback with the closeness when the braided teen rested both his hands on his shoulders, the slight hint of sorrow showing through heart-shaped features, once harsh voice now a low whisper.  
  
"Why do you always do this?" he queried, "always have to save the day, don't you?" Clear amethyst pools stared straight into dark oceanic depths. "You sure you want to do this?" he asked, voice uncertain even as he questioned the shorter teen.  
  
The Japanese youth looked wonderingly into those pleading eyes before feeling himself nod, his own voice soft as he whispered back a "hai."  
  
Duo closed his eyes briefly as he took in a long breath, then heaved a great sigh. Opening his eyes, a wide grin was already plastered across his face. He slung an arm over a surprised Heero's shoulder, before swinging around to face the Headmaster of Hogwarts, his other hand placed nonchalantly on his hip. Determination unwavering as he quickly regarded the others staring intently at the pair.  
  
"Well, you all heard him, let's get a move on it! I'd be damned before I let Heero go off and kill himself without me along with. Tell us what we gotta do, gramps!"~*~  
  
Heero quickly glanced over to where Duo was giving Malfoy a fake, cheery smile. It was evident that Duo disliked Draco just as much as the blonde did him. After spending so much time with the braided baka he could discern the other's behavior easily. However, the quiet Asian was more preoccupied with other matters. Like, how is it that he came to have feelings for his energetic partner?  
  
He didn't understand it at first, but after he had confided in Wufei long ago about these confounding emotions, the onyx-eyed youth explained that it was a form of affection. Something much more intimate than mere friendship, feelings akin to love, but in a lighter sense. Speaking with the justice-prone pilot always did manage to answer his puzzling questions concerning emotions. Ever since that pivotal point when he had spoken of the little girl and her puppy to the Chinese, as Wing plummeted towards the black waters, they had grown closer as friends. Wufei in turn divulged stories of his past, mostly about Meiran, the wife he had lost. It look a while for them to bond, but ever since both would come to one another for some form of reassurance every now and then, helping each other deal in living a life without fighting, without war.  
  
"So, Heero," came the intruding voice, breaking the silent teen from his musings, "did you play any position on your Quidditch team? I'm Captain for the Slytherins." He met Draco's curious expression and replied in his usual monotone, "No."  
  
"I'm sure you'd want to. In any case, you should try out. I might be persuaded in letting you on the team," said Draco, confident that Heero would jump at the chance at his most generous offer. Who wouldn't be?  
  
"I don't think—"  
  
"Aw, c'mon Heero. It'll be fun, we'll both try out and make the team. It'll be like old times," interrupted Duo, grinning madly as he entered the conversation, much to Draco's dislike.  
  
"I'm afraid there's only one open position," gritted out Draco.  
  
"One more wouldn't hurt. How 'bout it, Heero?" prompted Duo.  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Then it's settled! We'll both go for it. When are the try-outs, Drake?"  
  
"It's Draco. And the try-outs won't be posted until a few weeks from now. But—"  
  
"Great! We'll talk to you in a few weeks then. Come on, Heero, I'm all finished here. Let's go up to the common room," finished Duo. Both the pilots got up from their seats and started making their way to the Slytherin dorms, leaving behind a seething Draco Malfoy.  
  
TBC... 


	7. Reflecting Afterthoughts

REFLECTING AFTERTHOUGHTS

When the next morning came, students were conversing at their respective tables, loading up their plates with delicious breakfast foods provided by the house elves. While the children ate, each Head of House was passing out the schedules for each student who, once getting hold of their slip of paper, commenced to compare what classes the other one had.

Heero was sitting quietly with a large tome propped heavily against two pitchers of pumpkin juice. One hand he used to thumb through the pages rather quickly, his dark blue eyes skimming the text nonstop, while the other brought spoonfuls of mixed fruit up to his mouth. Chewing idly, he continued to pore over the book; almost nearing the end, his mind taking in all that "Everything You'll Ever Need to Know about Quidditch" had to offer. It was then Duo appeared at his side, settling in his seat before digging into his meal with both hands gripping a fork, shoveling in delicious fluffy eggs, crispy bacon and hash brown into his gobbling mouth.

"Wuts dat, 'ro?" asked Duo, his cheeks still stuffed.

"Research," answered Heero, seeming unfazed and able to understand the muffled words coming out of the American's mouth.

Snapping the book shut, he held it out to Duo who had already moved on from his empty plate to a new one piled high with pancakes. Smothering the hot cakes with some butter and a bath of maple syrup, he dug in once more before taking the book from Heero. He gave a questioning look to the Japanese, his cheeks puffed out, unable to speak but the other understood what he was wondering.

"Malfoy notified me that tryouts are today," explained the reserved teen.

In answer he received a blank stare.

"He lied to you, didn't want you to participate," he continued, linking the chain for his partner, Duo merely shrugged his shoulders as if not surprised the blond Slytherin would try something like deceiving him. Not that he really bought whatever the boy had to say in the first place.

In that moment, Draco had decided to grace the Slytherins with his presence, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Taking a seat across from Heero (the two thugs also forcing themselves to squeeze in), he gave the other a nod, the gesture holding an air of arrogance. The Malfoy heir had completely ignored Duo, making the action particularly noticeable amongst the fellow Slytherins. There wasn't even the hint of guilt at his revealed lie about when tryouts were to occur. After all, he had hoped it would have gotten rid of Maxwell's want to join the team, or at least make sure it was too late for him to even attempt.

"So Heero, seeing as how you claim to have never played Quidditch, I assume we'll be going over the fundamentals first?" asked Draco superiorly, already in the process of stacking his own plate with some breakfast pastries.

"No need," Heero replied simply, gesturing to the book Duo was already halfway done with.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Duo, his face somewhat souring before returning to its customary sneer. He took a brief glance over the book's title.

"You expect by simply reading about it you've got the game all figured out?" queried Draco, obviously skeptical, his voice holding a hint of mockery at what he thought was absurd. Besides, nobody could read a book that thick in just one morning.

"Hn," he grunted in reply, not even bothered by the boy's rude and snobbish behavior.

"Don't worry your blond little head, Drakester, we've got it covered," chimed in Duo after shutting the book and putting it into his school bag, he'd return it to the library later for Heero.

Malfoy stiffened in his seat, his cheeks faintly tinged with a pinkish hue, anger welling up in those steel gray eyes of his. If looks could kill, Duo would have been strung out and yanked limb from limb by wild hippogriffs, his eyeballs and entrails then pilfered by ravenous werewolves. Trying to keep a hold on his temper, as well maintain face, he swallowed the curse that was taunting over his lips. He smiled bitterly at the braided boy.

"You—"

Before Draco had time to make his retort, Duo cut him off yet again, just like the night before.

"Well, me and Heero gotta go, Drake," said Duo as he and Heero stood from their seats and collecting their bags. "Being newbies 'round here we wouldn't wanna get lost and be late on our very first day, now would we? See ya in class," he bid Malfoy farewell with a cheery wink and a wave, dragging Heero out of the hall as the Japanese was just about to say goodbye.

Classes proceeded normally at first. Students shuffled through the halls, some jumping onto the staircases before they could swing out of reach, others standing clustered beside doorways during the breaks, chatting. When it came time for Potions class (the last class for the day), the Slytherins and Gryffindors were all gathering in the dungeons, entering the room in a messy line that was divided between houses. When Heero and Duo approached, they caught sight of Trowa waving a hand, beckoning them over.

"Hey, Trowa, how's it in Gryffinville?" asked Duo, his face set in his customary grin, though it was evident he was truly happy to see his friend and not merely holding up a mask. "You get to see Q-man in any of your other classes, yet?"

"Yes. He's already won the Hufflepuffs over," said Trowa, a small smile making its way over his lips, thinking about his partner and love.

"Um…hello there."

The three former pilots looked towards the source of the hesitant voice. A girl with bushy brown hair was watching them with inquisitive eyes, her face friendly though curious. After all, it wasn't often that Gryffindors and Slytherins interacted, or at least in a civil manner. Beside her stood a tall red head, just around the same height as Trowa, who was outright keeping an eye on the Japanese and American with all wariness up in arms. The third addition to the group was a shorter boy, just about Heero's height, he had messy black hair and glasses that made his face look much smaller, more fragile.

"'ello there yourself, the name's Duo, Duo Maxwell, and yours?" he asked, friendly. He offered a hand to Hermione which seemed to cause the red head to frown. The girl nudged the taller boy in the ribs, muttering a "be nice" to him before reaching for the offered hand and shaking it politely.

"I'm Hermione Granger, it's so very nice to meet you, Duo. I believe Trowa mentioned you and the rest of the transfer students as his friends. We've been keeping him company for you, showing him how to get around the castle. It could be awful confusing at times."

"Heero Yuy," said the Japanese for it was his turn to introduce himself. He too offered his hand in which Hermione shook with the same politeness; though this time it was accompanied with a smile for she knew these were not the typical, mean Slytherins that the school was so used to housing.

Slightly from behind Hermione and the red head, the boy with dark hair and glasses took a step forward, his expression neutral as he still tried to gather whether these two were anything like the other Slytherins. In his mind he deliberated that if Hermione could stand them, they must have been all right. Even he could not detect any sort of malice or deceit coming from the pair. He introduced himself as Harry Potter, then paused for a moment with a faint cringe, as if expecting some sort of extreme reaction upon the mentioning of his name.

But it never came, which only seemed to make the boy more willing to be openly friendly, as well minutely thankful that he had met someone who did not envy, worship, or loath him for being the Boy-Who-Lived. It was rather refreshing, actually. Instead, he was greeted with "Hello's" and shaking hands.

"Ron Weasley," mumbled the tall freckly red head, reluctantly. Hermione and Harry had already introduced themselves, why bother looking like a childish git by not doing so too out of sheer stubbornness?

"So what was your other school like?" inquired Hermione, her brown eyes never shying away from watching them intently.

Pleasantries finally aside, the group talked amongst themselves, mostly with Hermione questioning where they came from and whether any of them were muggle raised or not, ignoring the surprised and confused looks pressing on them from the other students. Malfoy had just arrived when he saw the scene of Slytherins and Gryffindors daring to mingle, and it was then he made it his business to stop it. Stalking towards the group with all intents on breaking it apart, he scowled darkly at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and even Trowa, too. His two "bodyguards," Crabbe and Goyle, were standing on each side of him with their arms crossed over their chests trying to look as intimidating as possible.

"Trying to taint them with your filth are you, Mudblood?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip, trying to keep herself from stooping to Malfoy's level and taking part in childish name-calling. Harry placed himself between Draco and Hermione, his green eyes darkening with shadowing emotions, but it was Ron who took the jibing bait.

"Why don't you just piss off, Draco? Bloody wanker. No one here cares what you have to say in the least," he growled.

"Now, now, children," interjected Duo. His face was still a happy mask, hands held up in a placating matter, attempting to soothe the bubbling anger that was rising between the Gryffindor and Slytherin Prefects. "Can't we all just get along?" Draco's head snapped to face Duo, his eyes piercing with sharp distaste.

"Why don't you just learn to shut your mouth, Maxwell? This has nothing to do with you. I don't know why the Sorting Hat even thought you could make it in Slytherin," hissed Draco, his tinged cheeks indicating the pent up rage he felt against the braided teen.

"I'd be glad to shut my yap," answered Duo in amusement, "that is, if you ever learn to shut yours first. Which I'm betting isn't gonna happen anytime soon, no?" His eyes sparkled with mirth, not even perturbed in the slightest by the hot headed aristocrat. "Besides, I think that moldy old hat decided it was time to get some fresh blood into Slytherin, 'cause obviously it made a poor choice of pickin's before."

Students snickered or tried to hide their laughter, bearing no pity for the Malfoy heir for it was long overdue that someone challenged his self-proclaimed rule over the Hogwarts student body. With no further biting remarks that he could make, so blinded by his fury, Draco turned on his heel and left the group and laughter behind him, stealing away into the classroom and taking his seat all the way in the front. They could gossip behind him all they like, but at least he wouldn't have to be facing them.

"C'mon guys, shall we?" Duo bowed, his arms gesturing for them to entire like some overly gracious host beckoning his guests to enter his humble abode. The group made their way into the classroom, though Ron lingered by the door, looking at Duo thoughtfully before speaking.

"I thought you two and Malfoy were friends. You know, like in league with each other."

Ron was caught off guard when Duo burst out in laughter, clapping a hand on the taller teen's shoulder while grasping his own stomach with the other.

"With his hoity toity, stick-shoved-up-the-ass, majesty? Heero is a patient guy; he pretty much tolerates almost everybody. As for me? No thanks, I'd sooner bunk beds with Snape, if ya catch my drift."

It took a moment for Ron to realize what Duo was implying, and once that proverbial light-bulb clicked; his face became white and drew up in a disgusted grimace. Shaking his head as if to desperately dispel whatever image was concocted, he tried to laugh it off, his chuckle coming in choking barks. Quickly making his way into the room, Ron sat himself at his usual seat beside Hermione, eyes focused only on the top of the desk, not wanting to look at anyone at the moment. Duo continued to giggle to himself as he stepped into the dark dungeon and sat beside Heero for class.

After Potions was over, every student scrambled to get out of the dungeons as soon as possible, not wanting to suffer the wrath of Professor Snape. Some of the students, however, were laughing madly instead of shaking with fear. As they rushed outside, the events of class time still fresh on their minds, they talked about the interesting spectacle Duo Maxwell and Professor Snape had made. Especially funny was the part where Professor Snape looked as though he was going to suffer an apocalyptic brain aneurism, struggling in-between wanting to take every point he could from the American and wanting to sustain his House's chances for winning the House Cup.

Duo knew exactly how to work the professor's nerve. He had banked on the man being unwilling to compromise his pride. It was a no-win situation for the poor greasy Potions Master. Severus could neither throttle the life out of the teen nor take points. The man couldn't even take points away from Gryffindor for Duo would have only shouted and made a great big argument about the unfairness of it.

When early evening approached, dinner was served and droves of students poured into the Great Hall. A loud buzz hovered over the massive crowd. Students shared the events of their first day with one another while rumors and excitement of the upcoming Quidditch match just a few weeks away were discussed. The first game of the year would be Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, which was why Draco had zealously wanted to start practice as soon as possible.

Finishing their dinner, Heero and Duo walked to the field toting along broomsticks they borrowed from the shed. They came to the field, both marveling at the awesome height the bleachers were propped. The bleachers were dissected into five parts. There were sections for Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and the Hogwarts staff.

Duo stared up into the peaceful sky filled with stretched out clouds brushing along purpling hues. The brilliant sun had started to make its descent, leaving the moon alone in the sky though not visible as of yet. They mounted the old brooms, some of the bristles falling out when they kicked off from the ground. They wobbled slightly, unused to being on such a contraption, before quickly finding their focus of balance.

"Oi! They expect ya to sit on this damn thing for a whole game? I'm gonna be sufferin' from chronic wedgies the rest of the year!" shouted Duo, squirming on the narrow handle, trying to carefully manage his weight on the broomstick so that it did not cause any certain discomfort.

Heero smirked at the braided baka, serenely floating in the air, moving in small circles. Perfectly at ease. Duo stopped grousing in time to watch his partner fly up and over, around and down in an arc, almost showing off how easy it was for him. A grin flitted across Duo's face before disappearing into a mock frown, his brows knitted together in feigned irritation.

"Think you're hot stuff, eh? I'll show you!" Duo sped off toward Heero, attempting to tackle him in midair, though the former Wing pilot easily outmaneuvered him. They darted across the sky, wind ruffling their robes, the cold chill causing their cheeks to pink up. Laughter filled the air as the two Slytherins twirled about, playing aerial tag with one another and doing tricks on the brooms. From the corner of his eye, Heero spotted Malfoy and the rest of the official Slytherin Quidditch team approaching, accompanied also by some hopefuls that wished to be added in the sport.

Heero and Duo swung their brooms over toward the crowd, just hovering a few feet from the ground.

"Should we begin?" queried Heero, motioning to the large trunk they brought with them.

"Why not? This ought to be a good laugh watching the two of you struggle to get the hang of it," drawled Malfoy, snapping his fingers, giving one of the Slytherins a cue to open up the trembling trunk.

The two bludgers struggled against their chains as usual, the golden snitch tucked away in its own pocket, but the boy went for the red quaffle in the center instead. The teen picked up the ball, mounted his broom and flew up towards the stands, swerving around to the front of the goal posts to one side of the field. It was clear what Heero and Duo had to do, they would practice going up against the goalie first. With a nod to each other, they rose up on their brooms, and faced the goalie who then chucked the quaffle hard at a sharp angle to the left.

Duo and Heero both swerved down to grab the plummeting ball, though Duo was able to grab it first since he was closer to it. He jettisoned towards the goalie with great speed, the quaffle tucked under his right arm. The goalie watched Duo like a hawk, his mouth set in a cross between a sneer and the baring of teeth, a twisted smirk of sorts, just waiting for Duo to try to make the shot. It would be an easy block.

Duo reared back with the quaffle, his right arm grasping the ball firmly as he prepared to hurl it at the goal, but rather than throwing it toward the hoops his body turned a full 180 degrees, his long legs swinging over the broom so that he was facing backwards. A quick pitch towards Heero was given, he having been trailing Duo from behind, swung his broom around and used the tail of the broom to smack the quaffle straight into one of the lower hoops. The goalie was stunned for a moment before growling under his breath. Swooping down, he picked up the quaffle and threw it back over the pair.

"Lucky shot! Let's see you two try that again!" he shouted.

Just as the goalie finished shouting, another shot was made (this time with Heero catching and Duo scoring), the ball whizzing merely millimeters from his head. The quaffle sped on too quickly and too suddenly for him to stop it. The Slytherins below gawked at the scene above them, shock and surprise reflected on their faces. However, Draco was far from impressed but was enraged.

"Release the bludgers," the blond ordered, "see if they can handle having the antes upped."

The restless bludgers were unchained, instantly zooming up into the air, speeding towards the trio.

"Um, shouldn't you have given them the clubs first?" asked one of the younger Slytherins, nervously. He had been one of the hopefuls who wanted to make it onto the team. "They might get hurt—ow!" The boy was shoved away, falling to the ground.

"That would be the point, now get away from me," bit out Malfoy, patting his hands as if to rid himself of imaginary dust or filth he might have caught from simply touching the boy.

When one of the bludgers sped at Heero, he made a flip as he was carrying the quaffle to score another goal, though the bludger did not relent. The bludger curved around to try and make another go at Heero, but the Japanese was fast. Throwing the quaffle up into the air, he pushed off from the broom just when the bludger plowed on through where he previously was only seconds ago, and with the gracefulness of a feline he manipulated his body into a flawless roundhouse in midair, kicking the quaffle home, landing back onto the broom with ease.

The frustrated goalie shouted a curse before smacking the quaffle back onto the field with his broom. Just when Duo was going to catch it, the other bludger went after him. Timing it carefully, he hovered, waiting for the bludger to get closer, letting it zoom straight for him as the quaffle began to descend further to the ground right below him. The bludger dived for Duo, aiming at his head but he evaded its attempt by swinging himself upside down from the broom. Reaching his arms out, he caught the quaffle in time before it dropped too far from his reach.

If it wasn't such an impressive move, Duo would have looked rather silly dangling upside down, using his legs to hold onto the broom. Righting himself, he passed the quaffle to Heero, who passed it back, confusing the goalie who tried keeping track of their movements. This continued a few more times, them toying with the boy who desperately tried to protect the hoops, before moving onto a more dangerous stance. Both of them stood on their brooms, using balance and their feet to help keep them upright, one foot on top and one foot tucked beneath. They looked as though they were surfing in the air, continuing to pass the ball to one another and intermittently bouncing it precariously on their broomsticks, as if they were playing a regular game of basketball.

After a bout of complicated passing, Duo was back in possession of the ball, he head butted the quaffle like a professional soccer player right through a hoop. Cheers erupted from the small crowd below, whistling and hollering could be heard echoing through the hollow pitch. Tired of being humiliated, the goalie landed back down onto the ground with a huff and sour expression on his face, he slammed the quaffle back into its place in the trunk, and stomped away in annoyance. He had missed all the throws.

Seeing as how practice had reached an impromptu stop, Heero and Duo opted to collect the roaming bludgers. Coming up from behind the agitated goalie, each of them holding a bludger, they landed and chained the balls back into place. Suddenly, they were surrounded by a crowd of eager faces, smiles all around.

"That was totally wicked!"

"So awesome!"

"How did you do that?"

"Can you teach me?"

"Ooh! Me, too! Pleeease?"

Voices were coming in from everywhere, praising and begging for their attention. The mass of bodies were clustering tightly around the pair, jostling for room. Draco forced his way through the crowd with his face set in a scornful scowl. He looked at them suspiciously, his mouth made thin in anger.

"I thought you said you've never played Quidditch before in your life. The both of you lied," accused Draco, groping for an excuse, any at all that would allow him to kick Duo from ever joining the team. He did not want to be showed up during a game, especially by this idiot. Heero, he was greatly impressed with and could see as a much needed asset to the team, he could afford to forgive the Japanese of the obvious lie. But, Maxwell? No. He mentally stamped his foot, stubborn. Absolutely not!

"What does it matter? Now we can win the Quidditch Cup this year for sure! None of the houses or even Potter would be able to stand a chance against us!" yelled one of the students, the rest of the crowd murmured in agreement.

"I am Quidditch Captain, I am the one who gets to say who is on the team and who is not!" shouted Draco, sounding like a petulant child, truly displeased that the group would turn on him so quickly. He couldn't stand how everyone was idolizing Maxwell like some god. "Besides," he continued, "I meant it when I said there was only one position left open. There isn't room for another player."

"I wouldn't mind giving up my spot if it means Slytherin victory," offered Nott, "I can play as an Alternate." Everyone agreed with the suggestion. All eyes were on Malfoy, expectant, waiting.

Malfoy flinched almost imperceptibly at the attention. Silence surrounded him as he swallowed uncomfortably. His initial response was to lash out at being cornered and forced to change his mind, tempted to sustain his original decision. But he didn't have that sort of nerve. Afterall, would it be that horrible to allow the American to join the team? His gray eyes stared into Duo's own amethyst ones. Actually, it wouldn't, he was a lot better than the current team combined.

Draco heaved a sigh, tired of constantly fighting for respect, for compliance, for…understanding. Everyday he could find himself surrounded by people, yet he felt so alone. He had nobody in the world, he was all by himself. He did not want to be punished for the sins of his parents any longer. No one understood how he felt. He just wanted to belong for once. He wanted a friend.

So why was he giving Maxwell such a hard time? The teen was friendly enough and was not to be blamed for starting this whole feud between them. Simple. He was jealous. Maxwell had friends, everyone flocked to him, yet Draco found himself to have nobody. He had even thought about taking Heero for his own friend. The Japanese never judged him like everyone else did, but then neither did Maxwell, that is until he started acting like a git toward the American boy.

Would letting things go and trying to become a better person be so wrong? To start a new life? Maybe, then again, maybe not.

What to do…?

"All right. Heero, you'll be Chaser…and Maxwell…you can take Nott's position, also Chaser," muttered Draco, reluctantly. The crowd cheered happily, applauding and patting the two new Chasers on the back in a congratulatory manner. "The rest of tryouts will be held tomorrow, which will be a Saturday, everyone should meet on the field after lunch. Old positions, if you so choose to give it up, will be reassigned. I will remain as Seeker. That is all."

Draco turned away from the group of happy faces, unable to take it any longer. The skies had darkened with barely enough sunlight now to be able to see the path leading back to the school. Following it, Draco wandered sullenly. Heero watched on as Draco left them all, thoughtful.

TBC

Author's Note: I want reviews. Gimme! Gimme!


	8. Nightly Protectors

Author's Note: Don't recall what the original Slytherin Quidditch players in the book were, just know Draco was seeker. Hope there are no overzealous HP fans that are going to be gunning after me over that. Oh well, my new world, my new system. So there. Remember to leave lots of reviews for me! Yeah, I like those.

NIGHTLY PROTECTORS

By the time weekend rolled around, the Slytherin Quidditch team was complete and practices were already scheduled for the following weekend. As Draco had announced, he would remain as seeker with Duo, Heero and Nott as Chasers. Since Nott was better than the other original Chaser, it was agreed upon that he would remain while the other unlucky fellow had to play as an Alternate. Not that the Alternate complained for he found his position was better suited for either Heero or Duo.

Blaise and Avery remained as Beaters, though the place of Keeper had to be replaced since the original one had quit, most likely due from sore feelings between him and Heero and Duo. Well, more like him toward the two new Chasers, he having taken the tryouts personally. A burly looking sixth year was chosen to be his replacement. The new Keeper was called Melvin McCoy, but even at sixteen he looked to be about twenty-five or so. The heavy jaw and scraggly unshaven face did not help his would-be youthful appearance.

That Saturday evening found Harry, Ron and Hermione clustered together at the dinner table. They were discussing something quietly amongst themselves until it appeared as though they reached a sort of agreement, given the slight nods they gave to one another. Harry turned toward Trowa who sat an empty seat away. The taciturn boy was toying with the last bits of his supper, seemingly unaware of his surroundings, which ceased once Harry tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Here," whispered Harry, "make sure no one sees you read it, especially the professors. We'll understand if you choose to decline." Trowa nodded once, curious green eyes focused on the thickly folded piece of parchment that seemed heavier than it should have been.

Gazing over at the staff table and around his fellow peers, he made sure that everyone was too distracted in their evening chatter to notice him (not that they would have seeing as how not-so-talkative he was), before opening the tiny package under the table. An ordinary looking coin fell into the palm of his hand. It was a galleon. How strange, he thought, why would they give him money?

Unfolding the rest of the parchment, he saw a short message and a small picture were scrawled over the paper. It read:

"Come to the Room of Requirement (trustworthy friends welcomed), you'll know when to come once the coin changes."

Beneath the message there was a crude map that was drawn, indicating where the room ought to be and what floor. Trowa pocketed the coin and piece of parchment before standing. As he walked out of the Great Hall, he made quick glances over to the other four former pilots, indicating for them to follow. Heero, Duo, Quatre and Wufei understood what Trowa had wanted and waited for the proper time to leave.

They left in intervals, allowing a few other students to mill out first before one of them exited to dissuade any suspicion than if they were to move out in one big clump at the same time. Quatre was first to leave then Wufei. Last were Heero and Duo. No one really questioned why they left together. After all, they were in the same House and thought to be close friends.

The two of them met with the other three in one of the deserted corridors, near the classrooms. Quatre was already nestled up against Trowa's side and the taller boy in turn wrapped an arm around his blond angel's waist. Having been so long denied being able to hold one another, they would take every chance they could get. In actuality, it had only been a few days, but to the couple it felt too long.

"'Sup Trowa? Did somethin' wrong happen," asked Duo, who was tentatively leaning against Heero's shoulder.

A tiny thrill made its way up Duo's body, happy at being able to touch his crush without being brushed off with a grunt. To Heero, he welcomed the touch as warmth spread out in his own chest, glad that Duo wanted to be near him. The more Heero spent time with his partner, the more he realized the American's feelings were in fact genuine, his own growing stronger along with.

Trowa pulled out the galleon and showed it to the others, along with the patch of paper.

"Potter gave this to me."

Quatre was the first to take the coin and paper, looking it over once before handing it to Wufei, who then passed it along to the others until the items came back to Trowa. .

"Do you think we ought to go check it out," inquired Quatre, concern could be noted from his tone of voice. Trowa gave a reassuring pat to his lover. "I don't think this is a trick. They're good people."

"One of our goals was to gain the students' trust. This is an opportunity, one that is too good to waste. We should go," said Wufei with a sense of finality to his words. "The Potter boy is not the enemy that we should be wary of. His reaching out to us is a positive sign. In fact, I believe it's your friend that we should be concerned with."

Duo quirked an eyebrow as the Chinese's last words were obviously directed at him and Heero. They exchanged glances before Duo offered his two cents.

"Ya mean Draco? The snot's harmless, don't think he plans on ever following in dear ol' dad's footsteps. I figure he just doesn't have the stomach for such business," he explained, "The brat more likes to bluff his way through power trips, nothing big, just your average bully. He's not likely the one feeding information to Mr. Big Bad or recruiting kids, maybe some of the other students, but I take it out of fear rather than true loyalty. If we can chummy them up some and get them to where we want, away from the lunatic, they won't be skipping merrily towards the monster's jaws."

"And how do you expect to accomplish that, Maxwell? It's not enough that you only win over those twittering onnas," was the disgusted retort, "you need to get to the boys, too."

"Simple. Me and Heero here will be playin' the cool jocks that everyone wants to be like," joked Duo, his face bright with a dashing grin, "They'd do anything we say."

"Saving people, especially from themselves, is not an easy task, Duo," said Quatre, his features somewhat saddened at the truth of his words. "For many, it could be too late, they might have already fallen through the cracks."

"Then I will catch them."

All eyes turned to Heero, the Japanese's words firm and resolute. There seemed to be a sense of foreboding hovering over those words. The four boys knew their friend was planning but it was clear he was not inclined to share what exactly. Worry flickered over Duo's face, erasing the grin that was there only moments ago. He shifted so that he now faced Heero.

"What do you mean by that," he asked voice thick with suspicion. "You're not plotting some suicide mission, are you?"

Amethyst eyes turned imploring as they searched Heero's own oceanic hues. The American's expression looked as though he were begging for Heero to, not only trust them all, but him especially. It broke something in Heero that he did not know existed to have to keep his friends in the dark, to lie to them. To lie to Duo. His face was a blank mask, giving no hint of which way or another.

They knew the issue was closed, Heero would not talk, the only thing they could do was trust their comrade and offer support if he needed help. However, Duo was having none of it for he cared too much about Heero to let the stubborn boy run towards his own death alone. If he couldn't stop him, then Duo could have at least run alongside with. He would never allow Heero to die alone.

He'd be there for him. Always.

"So that's it," it wasn't as much as a question than a statement, "you're just gonna play the Perfect fucking Soldier and have us ditch you in the den to face the lions by yourself?" The words came out quiet at first, growing in volume and becoming more heated until it was an angry yell. Duo's face was twisted up in disbelief and frustration. He had thrown up his hands in a defeated gesture.

"After all the shit we've been through together, you're gonna pull this on us now? Dammit, Heero! I've said it before and I'll say it again, it's not your responsibility to keep saving the world on your own, we're all ass deep in this together."

"Yelling at him isn't going to help, Maxwell," joined Wufei. Brotherly instincts kicked in when he sensed how uncomfortable Heero was at the moment. He tried putting his hand on Duo's shoulder, attempting to not only quell him but keep him back from Heero, but the American shrugged it off aggressively.

"No! You don't get to have a say in this, Chang, not this time. I don't understand why none of you are trying to make him change his mind!"

"Duo," tried Quatre, calmly, "we should trust him. We know he wouldn't do anything to intentionally hurt us. I'm sure there's a good reason why Heero won't tell us as of now, it isn't a question of trust, just the current situation."

Duo was about to continue his argument, body language indicating he was ready to burst out screaming at the empathetic Arab who was merely trying to ameliorate the tension, but Heero had had enough of the others speaking for him. He gave a light slap to Duo's left cheek, not hard enough to bruise, only to get his attention. Duo immediately faltered, blinking down at the shorter boy in surprise, not having expected to get smacked. Returning to his senses, he realized he was overreacting, that his feelings for Heero were causing his concern to spiral out of hand.

"This is war," his voice a low monotone, "nothing can change that fact." Heero paused. Allowing the mask to slip for a sheer second, he looked at each one of his dear friends, his only family, letting them know for a fact of how difficult this was for him with forlorn features. "We didn't start it, but we can end it…by doing whatever necessary."

"And you decided this is necessary," stated Duo, adding to the Japanese's last thoughts. Heero nodded his head, "It must be done." Duo released a heavy sigh.

"I'm not going to like whatever this is much, am I," asked Duo with a slight whine, his head lowered in dismay. His head snapped back up with barely an upturn to his lips. He was trying to make light of the situation to rid them of the earlier tension, though the smile only came halfheartedly, still bothered by the fact Heero was doing things the "Perfect Soldier" way.

Heero shook his head with mild amusement. A feather-light touch was given to Duo's left cheek with his calloused hand, barely a caress of the skin as though to apologize for offending the area, which surprised the taller American. Duo's eyes widened in shock, he was about to ask the Japanese what was the matter but was made utterly speechless when Heero actually hugged him. Swallowing hard, Duo couldn't believe that those strong arms wrapped around his waist were real.

"Thank you for trusting me," whispered Heero, the words so quiet that only Duo could hear. Heero was about to pull away but long arms brought him back against that hard chest, tightening around his smaller frame in an almost crushing hug. Duo held Heero wrapped in his arms, face buried in the nape of his neck, trying so desperately to convey how much the Asian boy meant to him without saying anything at all. "Always, Heero."

Quatre smiled broadly at the scene. Finally, Duo was starting to allow himself to pursue his own happiness and not be so consumed with the fear of rejection. Trowa and Quatre gazed at each other, both smiling knowingly before pecking each other on the lips, glad that their friends were at long last coming together. Or at least starting to.

Wufei stood there; content to watch on over the pair. He didn't feel awkward in the least, but rather glad Heero was finally expressing his emotions for Duo. The Japanese's happiness was important to him, he was like family, and he knew Duo would be good for the other boy. Of course, if Duo wasn't, he'd have to rectify that. Friend or not, an injustice was an injustice, he'd make sure nothing of the sort occurred between them.

When Heero and Duo parted, they had the grace to look embarrassed, having been so caught up in the emotional drama that was stirred between them.

"Anyhoo," said Duo cheerily, "should we wait in the room for them? Or shall we go wait in the rumpus room?"

Since their first day at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had informed the other staff members that certain rules would not be applied to the new students, that they will not be punished for breaking. For instance, they did not have a curfew nor were they restricted from access to any of the rooms, unless if the rooms were currently occupied by class. Many of the teachers were perturbed, some outraged like Snape at how unfair the Headmaster was being, playing favorites especially to those who weren't even original Howarts students, who were not "their own." The Headmaster ended the prejudiced thoughts with a mere glance at the staff over the rims of his half-moon glasses.

Dumbledore, as of yet, was the only one who knew their true identities, that not only were they not originally from Hogwarts, they weren't even from their time. Special arrangements were made for the five teenagers, allowing them private quarters whenever they needed time away from the student body in order to come up with strategies, to train, or even just for some private space. They practically had free reign over the school. The only restriction was that they were not allowed to let the other students know they were getting special privileges or else they'd be faced with chaos. Childish and easily contained chaos, but chaos nonetheless as school was concerned.

If, however, they deemed it the right time to reveal themselves then they could. It was entirely their call. Dumbledore had basically entrusted the safety of Hogwarts to them while he attended to Order business. The old man was either very knowledgeable and had high faith in those of good character or was completely off his rocker and foolishly willing to endanger hundreds of children's lives at the hands of five deadly soldiers. Albeit soldiers with a conscience, but trained killers all the same.

The five of them were betting on the latter. Of course, with their life experiences, having faith in others was often a touchy subject. After having the entire human race gang up against and villainies you, you'd be cynical about and a nonbeliever of "having faith in" and the "goodness of people" too. But they weren't complaining, if it made the job of protecting people from destroying themselves easier, they'd take it.

"I think it'd be best if we go wait in one of the rooms instead of splitting off to our separate common rooms," suggested Quatre, "That way, when the coin signals, we'll all be there to see it and we can go straight to the Room of Requirement in one group without having to have to search everyone out."

"Sounds good to me."

It was around ten o'clock at night when the galleon notified them it was time to go. Before then, the five of them had been lounging in one of the spare Transfiguration rooms, the space altered to look like a homey living room with fire pit and all, and they were sitting cozily on a circle of squishy beanbag chairs (Duo's idea). Heero and Wufei were playing a game of wizard chess as Duo, Quatre and Trowa were amusing themselves by transfiguring different objects. Their last transfiguration was changing three pillows into stuffed dolls, little munchkin look-alikes of themselves, and letting them run around.

Little Trowa and little Quatre had settled down to busying themselves in cuddling and kissing one another, causing real Quatre to giggle and real Trowa to smile pleasantly. Little Duo had simply made a disgusted face, faking to gag with his digit-less, nub of a hand. When the two still continued with their shameless public display of affection, little Duo looked on glumly at them, wanting someone to hold and smooch, too. Turning away from his fellow munchkins, he spotted Heero who was concentrating on the wizard chessboard, and grinned broadly before setting off for him at an eager run.

Wufei had banished them all when little Duo decided to interrupt the chess game by stomping over the board carelessly in trying to reach real Heero for a big fat kiss. It was funny at first but had gotten out of hand when the disgruntled chess pieces revolted against little Duo, shouting that the munchkin was declaring war on them by making the first attack. The heckling chess pieces had been carrying off the protesting little Duo, little Quatre and little Trowa trying to save him, until Wufei waved his wand over the havoc irritably. They all disappeared with loud "pop."

They reversed the room back to its original state before leaving for the Room of Requirement. They arrived just in time with some other students who looked at them curiously, obviously not expecting the new transfer students to have joined their exclusive club so quickly, especially two Slytherins. It was true that the group consisted of many students from differing Houses, but Heero and Duo would have been the first Slytherins to have ever joined.

Upon entering the room, Trowa was the first to greet Harry and his friends, and then motioned over towards the other four indicating that he wished to include them with the invitation that was given to him at dinner. The three Gryffindors smiled over at the rest of the former pilots, having expected Trowa to have invited them, already knowing that they were his friends. They waved the four on over, welcoming, then calmed down the group before making their announcements.

Harry gave a brief rundown of the group's purpose, allowing the newcomers to get a gist of why they were asked to join and what the Defense Association, or Dumbledore's Army, was all about. The beginning of the meeting was nothing new. The students were taught how to perfect their dueling skills while learning a small portion of some advanced spells that were not included in their regular school curriculum. Then the group was split into sections. While Hermione and Ron looked over the older members through their lesson, Harry watched over the newly admitted members.

"Now, one of the first spells that members learned in DA was the calling of their Patronus. Do any of you know how to conjure theirs," asked Harry, not really expecting any of them to say yes. He was surprised, however, when Trowa and his friends raised their hands. It wasn't so much that he thought them inferior, just that the Patronus charm wasn't really a common spell that professors taught their students, having been deemed too difficult and require too much time to teach in one school year. "Really? Would you mind giving those who don't know a demonstration of how to do the charm correctly?"

If these five were more advanced than he had hoped, thought Harry, then they could help manage the DA and quicken their advancement without the worry of being dragged behind by new members. With the outside world at war, time was of the essence for Harry and his friends to prepare the students of Hogwarts as much as they could, in as little of time as possible.

All five of the boys stood up from where they sat amongst their fellow students. Taking their place in front of the group, Harry stepped aside to allow for them more room to cast their charms. They stood side by side, making sure that everyone could see their hands and wands so they could observe how the movement went along with the cast. At the same time, they spoke the words "Expecto Patronum" and gave a rhythmic wave of their wands.

A burst of silver light shot from the tips, spilling out seemingly nonstop. The intense light filled the room, almost blinding everyone there. The other group that Hermione and Ron were managing stopped what they were doing to watch on as five different animals appeared, each a solid, glowing figure. Practically everyone had a surprised expression on their faces, eyes wide with mouths making little "o."

The patroni each stood dutifully beside their casters, keeping a diligent watch over the mass of students, making sure their wards were guarded. No patronus was the same for everybody, such was further exemplified by the given fact standing right in front of them.

Alongside Trowa was a silver fox, completely solid and well formed to the point it was actually tangible. The tall youth gently scratched its furred head behind a triangular ear. The fox moved its head into the scratch, giving the hand of his caster a lick here and there.

The fox was a symbol for camouflage, adaptability and quickness.

Wufei's patronus was a ram, body bulked and thick with sinewy muscles, especially the neck that had to support the set of weighted horns that curled elegantly, but deadly. The silver ram pawed at the floor with its heavy cloven hoof, snorting.

The ram was a symbol for strength and determination.

"Huh," said Duo with an amused but thoughtful look, "I've always pictured ya with a bull or mule, 'Fei. Didn't think you had a cool lookin' goat."

Both Wufei and his patronus glared daggers over at Duo. Wufei for the remark about the bull and mule, the smart mouthed American obviously mocking his stubbornness. The ram for the insult at being referred to as a goat. The ram snorted again, this time angrily, both front hooves clawing at the floor in a temper.

"Whoa, now," Duo held up his hands as if in surrender, trying to placate the ruffled ram, "no need to get all fussy there, Billy Goat Gruff."

Standing at Duo's side was a coyote. Its eyes were narrowed out since the mouth was opened in a pant, though it wasn't breathing in pants it looked more like it was smiling, silently laughing with Duo at Wufei and his patronus. The coyote weaved its tail from side to side, wiggling it at the ram's direction once in a while as if the appendage were a lure, taunting it. This seemed to make some of the DA members laugh. Harry coughed into his hand, trying to hide the smile that crept up on him.

The coyote was known as The Trickster and a symbol for humor, charm and self-deception.

"Your mongrel is as ill-mannered as you are, Maxwell," spat Wufei, the ram swung its head down once, as if nodding in agreement with the Chinese. Duo just shrugged.

"Can't help it if he at least has a sense of humor."

"He is of your creation, which means you can help it. It is your doing and your fault." The word "can" had been emphasized.

A soft whinny was uttered from the majestic equine that stood humbly beside Quatre, effectively shutting the two former pilots up. Quatre's patronus was the largest of the bunch, but appeared to be the most submissive and meek. The horse was a Fresian breed, its body was solid silver instead of the natural black. It kept its huge head low, lovingly nuzzling Quatre's hand which was petting along its velvety nose.

The horse was a symbol for loyalty and devotion.

Heero's patronus was a wolf. Not just any wolf, however, but a massive one about the size of a small pony. Harry noted how this wolf looked much different than Tonk's wolf patronus, the slight variation was that Tonk's wolf was a were one (depicted after Remus Lupin), not a natural one. Though, thought Harry, this wolf didn't appear all that natural, either. The wolf simply stood there, not moving one muscle or even batting an eye.

The wolf was a symbol for balance between loyalty and independence, perseverance, wisdom, teacher, pathfinder on journey of survival, and the shadow.

Heero neither petted it nor spoke to it. The wolf merely remained standing half curled about its caster's waist, eyes sustaining its unwavering gaze over the crowd, empty. It was a beautiful creature, but the type of beauty that could rip your arms off with one bite. The wolf appeared tame enough though there remained a sense of wildness about it that clearly warned you that you may look but never touch.

As instantly as the patroni appeared, they vanished without a trace, no longer needed by their wards. Some students clapped, obviously impressed by the demonstration and eager to learn how to call their patronus, too. Harry approached the five boys and offered for them to help instruct the classes. They agreed to do so.

The five gundam pilots would do everything they could to ensure that these children knew how to carry themselves in battle. It would be their only chance, as well only hope, for survival. With that in mind, the group was split up yet again to allow two members to each of the five boys. The lessons continued on after that without further disturbances.

After the meeting was over with, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked tiredly up the stairs to their common rooms. They moved awkwardly underneath the invisibility cloak, at times stumbling or stepping on the other's foot, their efforts to move as one made clumsier by the fact they could barely keep awake. Harry and Ron bid Hermione goodnight as she left for her side of the tower, sneaking back into the girls' dormitory. The two boys went up to theirs, slumping onto the canopied beds.

Ron fell instantly asleep, not bothering to change from his clothes to pajamas. Harry, however, changed into his night clothes before peeling back his bed covers and sinking into soft mattress. He took off his round framed glasses before bringing the edge of his blankets up to his chin. Yawning, he shifted to a more comfortable position before allowing sleep to drift him up and over into the realm of the unconscious.

The last thought to have run across his mind before fully succumbing to slumber was the prayer that he would not receive anymore visions of death and carnage for that night. If but for one night, he could rest. He could be at peace. Maybe he could even dream pleasant dreams of a life not so dismal.

Maybe.


	9. Erasing Boundaries

ERASING BOUNDARIES

The Slytherin team gathered behind green and silver curtains, listening in on the massive crowd that waited for them just beyond the heavy drapes. Heero and Duo remained calm as they made a few minor adjustments to their gear, tightening a few padding straps here and there, flexing their hands to make sure they would be able to grip the quaffle easily with the gloves. Both of them held new brooms, Nimbus 2001's that were forfeited by the Chasers before them, instead of the old tatty ones from the school shed. While they stood patiently, the other players fidgeted uncomfortably.

Blaise and Avery were swinging their bats to and fro at their sides, faces somewhat pale, nervousness coming off them in waves. McCoy was trying very hard not to look uneasy while his gorilla hands had a death grip on his broom handle, his right foot tap, tap, tapping at the ground. Nott did not look as confidant as his fellow Chasers while chewing anxiously at his fingernails, tiny droplets of sweat were already beading over his brows and upper lip. Draco had his arms crossed, expression in a scowl, neither trying to bite the heads off of his teammates or offering them any comforting words before the game.

The nervous bunch jerked when the curtain was pulled back, revealing thousands of eager faces and a dull gray sky above. It was late October and the gloomy clouds showed it. Draco made a disgruntled noise while peering up toward the skies. It was going to start raining while they played, he just knew it.

Slytherin exited upon their brooms, flying once around the pitch to be met with cheers and boos. Across from them, a team garbed in glaring yellow and solid black glided out as well. They too flied about the field, being met with more cheers than boos than the Slytherin team. Today's match was against the Hufflepuffs.

Both teams centered themselves at the middle of the field, waiting for Madame Hooch to arrive with the quaffle. The two bludgers had already been released and were floating lazily in the sky, not yet zooming around dangerously until the match began. The snitch was pretty much gone somewhere amongst the pitch. All eyes were on Hooch as she made her way to the center between both teams.

"You know the rules," she spoke loudly, "I want a fair game and no foul play got it?" Her last words were spoken more for the Slytherin team as she glared up at them with her bright yellow eyes, the pupils narrowed down to slits. She threw up the quaffle. The game started. Bludgers quickly zeroed in on the two teams.

Heero shot up towards the still rising quaffle and made a backwards flip, his broom looping vertically, the tail end whapping the ball to Duo who waited behind him. The Hufflepuffs shook off their surprise, not expecting the sudden quickness, and began to make chase after Duo. It proceeded normally at first, Duo keeping the ball tucked under his arm and flying towards the opposite goal posts, dodging Hufflepuffs and bludgers. He chucked the ball into the goal post without much effort, scoring the first ten points for Slytherin, leaving none for Hufflepuff.

Heero did the same when Slytherin had gotten back into possession of the quaffle after the Hufflepuff Keeper smacked it back into the field. It was obvious they were simply biding their time while Draco tried to find the snitch. Both of them kept the game going as smoothly as possibly, which wasn't very difficult, passing it amongst them and to Nott who finally regained his confidence and decided to join his fellow Chasers. However, Duo started to get bored with the game.

"Oi, Heero," he shouted at the Japanese while they flew untouched, "wanna kick it up some?" Heero nodded. "Hai."

The crowd seemed to be able to sense the change happening. The Houses pressed closer to the edges of their seats, watching intently the match. Shocked gasps and exclamations happened all at once, students were watching in anxious yet excited surprise at the dangerous stunt. Heero and Duo stood upon their brooms, the same surfing position like in practice, one foot over and one foot tucked safely under the handle.

"Hey! You can't do that," complained one of the Hufflepuff Beaters accusingly, "it's got to be against the rules!"

"Check again, Macmillan," sneered Avery before he whacked a bludger at the other boy. Macmillan tried hitting it back but the coordination of his club was off and the bludger smacked into his wrist.

"Urgh!" The boy cried out, dropping his club below. He flew jerkily back to the benches with his broken wrist where the Hufflepuff Alternates waited for their turn. Avery barked out a laugh as he returned to the game.

Once again, Duo had the ball, half crouched on his broom as he zoomed around other Chasers and bludgers. Upon nearing the goal posts, he threw the quaffle up into the air some distance in front of him, and pushed off the broom, the broom continuing to fly its straight path. In one smooth arc of his hand, he slapped the quaffle right through one of the higher hoops as if it were volleyball. Having timed it well, Duo fell to his Nimbus 2001 that was under him, grabbing hold of the handle then swinging himself back onto it as it flew like it was a gymnast bar.

Applause and shouts roared from the crowd. Harry watched the impressive sight, amazed at the amount of skill the two transfers had. However, a painful knot was beginning to grow in his belly. How was he supposed to go against that when it comes time for Gryffindor vs. Slytherin?

Slytherin back in possession, Heero sped past the others, going farther up than what was usually attempted by Chasers. It happened so fast, he had the quaffle above but in front of the golden hoops, releasing his hold and letting it fall, Blaise yelled at him then.

"Why'd you let it go!" Heero ignored him, concentrating on the task at hand.

Heero pulled the Nimbus 2001 up to him as if it were a skateboard, and grasping it, pulled the broom from under his feet to hold like a bat. Plummeting head down with the quaffle some distance lower, he swung his broom while airborne and nothing underneath him to keep him up there, batting it straight into a hoop. Continuing to descend head first, he quickly brought the broom back under his feet and spiraled out in loops. Forcing the nose of the broom upwards, to slow the chaotic movements, he managed to regain his upright position.

The Slytherins up in the bleachers screamed with delight. Flags with the serpent emblem waved wildly in the stands. The energy emanating from the crowd was thick and electrifying. Everyone was cheering for the two brightest stars on the team, chanting Heero and Duo's names over and over again.

No one noticed when Draco finally caught the snitch. He hovered on his broom, gray eyes staring at the struggling snitch, crushing his hands tighter the snitch ceased all movement, a few broken feathers fluttered to the ground. A low rumble passed through the clouds. Slowly, raindrops fell to earth, the skies crying never-ending tears.

BREAK

Children milled into the Great Hall for dinner, the conversation still buzzing about the Quidditch match earlier that day, laughter and high spirits floated above the Slytherin table especially. The Hufflepuffs seemed slightly put out from the game, but they agreed it was fairly won, Heero and Duo had saw to that. The students realized that Heero and Duo had been purposely intervening whenever their teammates tried something sneaky, like blocking Nott when he attempted to kick someone off their broom for the quaffle. They were not being glory hounds by keeping the ball amongst the both of them, but rather were aware of Slytherin's usual tactics of committing foul after foul in a game.

Even Snape appeared pleased with the outcome of the game, regardless of how Gryffindor-like Heero and Duo were in evening the playing field. He sat proudly in his chair, taking bite after bite of filet mignon, savoring the flavor happily. Glancing over at Professor Sprout, he caught her gaze and smiled. The Head of Hufflepuff returned the smug look with her own smile that was more like bearing of the teeth than a genuine one.

Without warning…

"H-help! Albus…sweet Merlin…ALBUS, HELP US, PLEASE!"

…the cheerfulness in the room bled away.

A beaten looking auror stumbled into the Great Hall, limping painfully while carrying another.

It was Red and in his arms laid Tonks, lifeless.

Sweat had smeared the black smudges that covered his face while various scrapes and bruises littered the exposed portions of his torso. His robes were in tattered rags, webbing over his chest barely hanging on, but the portions under his intact belt remained. His left pants leg had a singed look to it burned away up to mid-thigh, a nasty expanse of blisters bubbled over his skin, obviously it being the cause for his limp.

Tonks looked worse out of the two. She too had been burned, but her wounds were far more severe. Rawness crawled up from her left side, over her shoulder, into the neck and her face. The once vibrant hair was a dull mousy brown, though half of it was gone, burned away revealing a blistered scalp. Aside from the given burns, there was something off in the way she looked.

Her left ear was missing. Melted away.

A flurry of motion happened all at once. The Heads of Houses ushered the frightened students away, far from the horrendous sight, the prefects following suit in bringing up the rear to make sure no one dawdled behind. Albus came sweeping up to the injured aurors, Madame Pomfrey at his side holding a case filled with clinking bottles. Red could no longer take another step and so collapsed to the floor, his arms still wrapped around Tonks, his face buried into the unmarked side of her mangled body.

Sobs wracked the man's frame causing great shuddering spasms to attack him, his cries muffled against Tonks. When Albus gently eased Tonks from his hold, he howled high and loud, grief consuming him for his fallen partner, his friend. Pomfrey was about to bring a potion filled bottle to Tonks' mouth to drink, but Albus rested a hand on the nurse's wrist, shaking his head. His other hand was by Tonks' neck, measuring for a pulse that wasn't there, long gone before they could even try to save her.

Pomfrey swallowed hard before relenting, with the effort of holding back tears apparent, she moved aside to offer the potion to Red instead for the burns on his leg. The former pilots had lined up beside the four of them, unable to do anything to help the woman who lay dead in the middle of the Great Hall. Heero looked over both aurors on the ground before kneeling by Red. The man had calmed down from the potion and was sitting up using his arms to support him, his face streaked by drying tears.

"What happened," he asked bluntly.

"Wha-young man, please!" Madame Pomfrey had choked out the words, stricken with disgust at how Heero could possibly interrogate someone at a time like this. "How can you be so callous?"

Heero ignored her, eyes boring into Red, all of his attention focused on only him.

"Tell me, Red. I need to know how Tonks got killed."

Red angrily stared back at Heero. Rage poured in behind those dulled green eyes of his, tumultuous and uncontrolled, like a storm coming in. Red knew Heero was not the one at fault for what happened that evening, the boy was merely trying to help. But damn it if it wasn't convenient to blame him right then.

Red growled low in his throat.

"Get away from me, you little shit," he spat, swinging a fist at Heero, but the Japanese simply leaned back to avoid it. His hand shot out to grasp Red's, tightening over the fist, his hand too small to completely cover the man's fist but still held on just as strong. He didn't crush it, but held it still. Heero leaned his head in, blues eyes cold and steady, showing no intimidation of the much larger man.

"Tell me," repeated Heero without inflection.

"Albus," Pomfrey's voice sounded exasperated, "do something about this. Stop the boy, questions can wait until he's had time to heal." Albus made a gesture indicating he felt it was not his place to interfere.

"No, Poppy," sighed Red, his furious expression wilting into a sad one, "the boy's right. The Order needs to know everything and anything that comes up as soon as possible."

"The Order," puzzled Pomfrey, "you don't mean…" the words finally clicked together in her head. She turned accusing eyes at Dumbledore who was now sustaining an unreadable mask. "Albus! How could you force these young children to become Order members, have you gone daft?"

"They joined by their own free will," said the Headmaster, giving a semi-shrug as if saying 'not my fault, I'm innocent.' Poppy didn't buy it.

"That's totally absurd," she huffed.

"Enough, Poppy," mumbled Red, it was obvious he felt the same as the nurse that children shouldn't have been allowed in the Order, but he also knew these boys were far from being children. He unintentionally glanced to where Tonks lay. He tried speaking but choked up. Clearing his throat, he started again.

"The Ministry got wind of a possible Death Eater raid on Azkaban Prison. Word had it Voldemort was planning on freeing all the prisoners to help bulk up his army. Aurors were sent in to stop him, but no one had anticipated there'd be a dragon there. It was just an adolescent, but still, there was so much fire."

He had to pause for a moment, his breathing heavy as memories started flooding back to him. Dragons were illegal creatures in that part of the country. Their hides are known to naturally be able to deflect a majority of magical spells. The Death Eaters had probably stolen one from the nearest colony just for the purpose of torching their enemies, but an adolescent dragon was one of the hardest kinds to control given their agitated state through the onset of puberty.

"There were flames everywhere, there's nothing left of Azkaban now, it's all just a bunch of charred wood and rubble. Most of the prisoners died in the fire, but so did many of the Death Eaters, some of the other aurors were injured."

"So Voldemort is becoming bolder," said Heero, his expression flat and indecipherable, "he may be getting sloppy. He has sacrificed more with very little to no gain in return." Getting up from where he knelt by Red, Heero started to make his way for the exit, the other former pilots following him like a shadow. He stopped suddenly, never turning his back as he spoke in a soft, sympathetic tone.

"I am truly sorry for your loss."

And he was gone, the others followed suit.

BREAK

"What's going on here?"

Harry looked confused as he stood in the Room of Requirement, the other DA members standing behind him mirroring his reaction. All of their galleons had been signaling them frantically, calling them to the room.

"This meeting is for emergency training," said Heero. Of the five, he was the only one speaking to them. The other four were stationed around the room, keeping vigil. Trowa stayed at the back wall behind Heero, Quatre and Duo each took a side of the room, and Wufei was standing near the door. "An auror was killed tonight. Voldemort is escalating."

Harry stiffened, his nerves going numb. A horrible twisting sensation pained the middle of his stomach, his chest feeling extremely tight. Forcing himself to take a breath, he tried to speak, his voice wavering, shaking.

"Who w-was it?"

"Nymphadora Tonks."

Harry took a sharp intake of breath, his hands balled up in fists that turned his knuckles white. Ron caught Hermione who had been about to collapse, she whimpered, the whimpers turning into sobs. The three Gryffindors were affected most by the news for Tonks had been their friend. The others appeared grief-stricken too for another on the side of Light had died tonight, another good soul snuffed out.

Just as the group of students was trying to regain their composure, Wufei yanked the door open, making everyone jump, and grabbed for something outside. Pulling hard, a boy was forced in and tumbled to the ground, dumped unceremoniously on his rear end.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ron's words were spat out with contempt, his face screwed up in a scowl.

Draco struggled to his feet, eyes wide with nervousness like a deer caught in headlights, not looking the least bit like the arrogant aristocrat he usually was.

"I, well, um," the blond shook his head as though trying to reorganize his thoughts, "I followed you." He pointed at Heero.

"I know." Heero walked up to Draco and put a spelled galleon into his hand. The boy stared quizzically at the coin, then at the Japanese.

"You can't do that," protested Ron, "the great sod's a traitor."

"No, he's not, but he will be useful."

"Wait, what you mean 'useful'," asked Draco almost in a panic, "I don't want to have anything to do with…" He waved a hand, trying to find the right word but finding none. "…with whatever this is."

"The Slytherins look down at you," said Heero flatly, keeping Draco's attention on him, "but they trust you're not brave enough to spill their darkest secrets, to reveal who has been joining Voldemort."

"I…I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You will be an asset to the DA and the Order."

"Hang on," interjected Harry, "how do you know about the Order?"

"We're all in it," said Duo, jumping into the conversation, "we've been talkin' 'bout what's a good plan and that's to include Malfoy. He can get the other Slytherins to join up."

"Why, exactly, would we want to do that," asked Ron incredulously, "those Slytherins are nothing but future Death Eaters in training. They're the enemy."

Draco bristled with anger at that.

"The hell we are," he snapped, "we're nothing like those cretins. The only reason why any of us would join is because we're too afraid to say no. Our parents are the ones who are making us swear allegiance to You Know Who, or are brainwashed to think that creature is master of all, never by our own free will would we commit ourselves to him!"

"Oh, right," scoffed Ron, not accepting what the heated blond said as truth, "I'll believe that when trolls fly."

"Bite your tongue, both of you," barked Wufei, he had had enough of their pig headed arguing.

"The other Slytherins won't trust Heero and Duo to such an extent they do Draco," explained Quatre, his tone placating, "they're not comfortable to talk so freely about such matters to a couple of new transfer students."

"They might later try to recruit them," added Trowa, "but by then it would be too late to get the information."

"Draco."

The blond Slytherin was caught off guard by the call of his name, the conversation was moving too fast for him to follow. His mouth had been half opened, ready to argue. He glanced back at Heero, taken aback by the look he was giving, something about it was painfully familiar. He had seen the same expression in the mirror.

"I understand what it means to want to do the right thing, but always seeming like you're failing. It makes you feel utterly helpless which only fuels your self-loathing. It makes you almost want to give up."

Heero paused long enough for Draco to respond, he nodded silently in agreement.

"But you can stop the helplessness so long as you keep trying. People need you," he stepped closer, "will you help us?"

There was a long moment of silence that stretched across the room, blanketing them. Tension was so thick in the room one could cut it with a knife. They stared on with bated breath, staring at Draco. Depending on Draco.

"All right. I'll do it. I…I want to help."

BREAK

The group of sleep-deprived students was too tired at making any further attempts to practice. The lesson that night had been a grueling one. It was decided they would start learning wandless magic. Heero, being the only one who was currently capable of doing such, demonstrated how to perform wandless magic without, not only a wand, but a gesture of the hand or speaking out loud the spell.

Wufei was able to wordlessly command spells, but still had to use his hands in order to focus his energy. Duo was the opposite. He didn't need to make hand gestures but still had to say the spell out loud. Trowa and Quatre had to utilize both methods to make up for the lack of a wand.

"I think we should call it a night," suggested Harry, having noticed all the drained looks he was receiving from the other teenagers, some of them fast asleep on a couch they had conjured up for when they needed to take a break.

"Hn." Heero nodded an assent.

The students were ushered out of the room, the sound of shuffling feet sluggishly wandered out the door, creeping away toward their separate Houses. Draco was still sitting in the Room of Recruitment, a look of thoughtfulness spread across his face as he fingered his wand, twirling it from time to time. He was too distracted to notice the sound of footfalls behind him. Only when a hand was placed on his shoulder did he jerk from his reverie.

"I don't know why you're doing this, Malfoy," said Harry, lifting his hand away when Draco turned sharply to face him, "but…thank you…for, you know, helping us with this."

Brows raised, Draco stared at Harry in surprise. Never in a thousand years had he ever expected the bloody Boy Who Lived to ever thank him for anything. One side of him wanted to snipe back with some cruel remark, yet the other couldn't resist the urge to feel warmed by the Gryffindor's words of gratitude. Unable to stop the small smile curling the ends of his lips, he shook his head slightly.

"Elegantly put, Potter. I swear your inarticulateness is quite atrocious." There lacked a certain bite to his words, softening the edges of the insult, making it seem more like a joke.

Harry offered a hesitant smile in return, unsure as to how to take this change in behavior from Malfoy. He had expected thanking the Slytherin would backfire in a scathing remark as was the usual from the blond. Instead, the teen was ribbing him rather than snapping back. Without much else to say, he left the conversation at that and walked out.

Draco still sat where he was, but this time there was an air of calm surrounding him instead of the anxiety of being lost. Unable to restrain himself from doing so, he touched his shoulder lightly where the memory of Harry's hand still lingered, his fingers brushing lightly over the cloth of his robes. That warmth which comforted his heart, washed through his chest and over his entire body, filling his core and melting the chill that had run deep in him for years. Pieces of his loneliness were being stolen away.

Light returned to those dulled gray eyes.

Author's Note: Keep those reviews coming, they feed these ravenous muses of mine.


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